


Tribute

by spaceyquill



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceyquill/pseuds/spaceyquill
Summary: During the waning years of the Clone War, a strange ship is found patrolling the edge of the Unknown Regions. Senator Amidala is dispatched on behalf of the Republic to make first contact, and it does not go quite as she expected.





	Tribute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [politicalmamaduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/gifts).



Padmé’s datapad beeped with a new encrypted message. It took a long minute to decode and translate into Basic, only for her to find a single question: _What keeps more of the worlds in your Galactic Republic from seceding like the Separatists have done?_

What was he expecting, a dissertation? The Senate was to convene within the hour and Teckla was already hurrying Padmé into her overrobes. But Padmé typed up what she could.

_I assume most find more benefit being part of the Republic than they would independently. The Separatists are a perfect storm of industrial monopoly and their physical location in the galaxy, clustered together far from the Core World capital. It’s simply not possible for less advanced worlds to duplicate._

A reply came as Padmé settled into her personal speeder to be driven to the Senate building.

_Though the circumstances are different, my people suffer from a similar blight._

Padmé waited until she’d reached her office, but no elaboration came on his part. So she sent a final message before putting her datapad away: _Perhaps in time we can advantageously apply what we learn from one another to our respective situations._

* * *

“There is something we must handle with the utmost discretion,” Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had said early one morning after inviting Padmé into his office and dismissing his guards. “If word of this spreads, I fear the Senate will be thrown into even further chaos.”

It was a bold claim considering that over the past week, the Galactic Senate had devolved into shouting matches and passive-aggressive death threats as legislation regarding the InterGalactic Banking Clan loomed ever closer. Padmé would’ve assumed the Chancellor was attempting a dry humor if his expression wasn’t so grave.

At the press of a button, tinted shades fell over his office windows and holographic shapes projected over the desk. First, a map, zooming in on the border between Wild Space and the Unknown Regions, then footage of a foreign ship—sleek, like a blade—prowling, disappearing into a planetary shadow.

“I’ve never seen a ship like that before,” Padmé said. “Who does it belong to?” The hologram looped, but no matter how many times she watched it, nothing about the vessel looked familiar.

“Oh, that I knew,” said the Chancellor. “If you’re asking which side of the war this ship belongs to, you may be thinking too narrowly, my dear. This footage was taken by our long-range outpost on the edge of the Unknown Regions, and once I was informed that this was the third such appearance, I reached out to them. These strangers are willing to meet with a representative of the Republic, and I could think of no one better to send than you, Senator, considering your long and impressive record.”

“I…” With nothing for scale, Padmé had no idea how large that unknown ship was. It could be the size of her Nubian yacht, or it could be the size of a space station. “Of course, Chancellor. I should request a Jedi escort, though.”

“I understand your concern, but I hesitate to even include the Jedi. Besides, they are quite busy with the war effort. I have already received assurances that this is to be purely a diplomatic meeting.”

* * *

_I do not get the impression that the Republic would be interested in a partnership, but rather to consume neighboring systems,_ came the next message, days later.

Padmé had just crawled into bed, hours past midnight after a long day of pending legislature review.

_There has not been a strong enough independent region in recent history to rival what the Republic has become. I don’t foresee the Republic looking to overtake longstanding systems who don’t wish to join us._

Minutes later, a reply lit up her screen. _The current conflict against the Separatists seems indicative of the Republic’s stance on powerful independent regions._

It was completely different, but her brain was fried. _Ask 3PO._

* * *

She’d landed her Nubian yacht not far away from a shuttle, vaguely recognizable as a short-distance transport yet still foreign compared to the models she was used to.

“What a strange turn of events!” C-3PO cried as he shuffled down the boarding ramp after Padmé. Besides the blaster on her hip, her protocol droid was the only immediate backup she had; the Chancellor had been adamant that the fewer people to know about this, the better. All she had gotten were planetary coordinates near where the foreign ship had been lurking. Padmé pushed any thought that tried to tell her _this is strange_ from her mind, and quietly ordered a ship of her guards to wait a short hyperspace jump away, just in case.

Nature ran wild in all directions on this uninhabited planet; it was just two ships and their respective landing parties. Padmé approached the group of three males standing in front of their craft—their blue skin apparent even from a distance. Up close, their red eyes were striking. Two identically dressed guards flanked a male wearing a more intricate dark uniform, all waiting perfectly still.

Padmé ignored that little warning in her mind again as she gave an exaggerated wave of greeting. “Hello, I come on behalf of the Galactic Republic. My name is Senator Padmé Amidala.”

No spark of recognition crossed the aliens’ faces. The one in the middle spoke up. His language, harsh sounds interspersed with vowels she was sure she never heard before, resembled a broken translator program—not that she would say that to his face.

Padmé looked to C-3PO, whose head swiveled from the alien to her and back again.

“I… I am quite embarrassed to say, mistress, but I have never encountered this language before. Elements of it sound—”

“Never?” interrupted Padmé. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of that, of meeting such a foreign species that even a droid programmed with six million forms of communication couldn’t understand them.

“Perhaps a middle language?” the male spoke up again, this time in the trade language of Meese Caulf. Both Padmé and C-3PO’s heads snapped in his direction.

“Oh, wonderful!” cried 3PO in the same language, and proceed to introduce Padmé and the government she represented.

“I am Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Defense Fleet,” the man said. He had tossed his name out there so easily, but Padmé could only see herself tripping over the pronunciation if she attempted it.

“Very nice to meet you, Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo!” chirped C-3PO. The Commander’s eyes narrowed enough for Padmé to suspect they had already offended him.

“Please, just Thrawn.” He gestured to their shuttle. “I suggest we convene to a place less out in the open.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and Padmé’s ship had a functioning beacon with her guards waiting just a short hyperspace jump away in case she didn’t check in with them at the agreed upon time. She followed Thrawn up the boarding ramp of his shuttle to find it snug. The plushness of the seats lining the back of the ship were more luxurious than she expected. It was a intriguing start to the differences she could learn about the capabilities of a species that had seemingly developed independently of the Republic.

“Where do you come from?” Padmé asked, her Meese Caulf nowhere near as fluent as 3PO’s but she had to try. Thrawn cast a thoughtful expression her way as he directed her to one of the seats.

“We call it the Chiss Ascendancy. It’s quite homogenous until we reach this part of the galaxy, and run into your kind.”

Padmé needed 3PO to help with that.

“I would like to exchange maps with you,” said Padmé. “To see how your people see the galaxy.”

“We keep no maps,” Thrawn said, sitting himself and buckling in. “But I look forward to seeing your star charts.”

Padmé couldn’t suppress the warning bells anymore. The guards passed her by to enter the cockpit, and seconds later the shuttle hummed to life.

“Where are we going?” Padmé asked.

“To my ship, of course.”

“We were supposed to meet here,” said Padmé. With 3PO’s help she added: “We arranged the diplomatic talks to be held here, not conducted at another location.”

Thrawn cocked his head. “Diplomatic talks? Perhaps a miscommunication occurred, because your Chancellor agreed to send a representative to help us understand your galaxy. To stay with us, as _nyiajse.”_

Padmé looked to 3PO for a translation.

“As tribute.”

* * *

_I’m beginning to wonder, based on my conversations with the droid, if your view of the Republic isn’t painfully biased._

Padmé laughed out loud. _I assure you it is. But you must know the feeling of wanting your people to succeed and grow, how it becomes personal. How it can become your entire identity._

_I do._

So many questions popped into her mind, but all of them veered toward the personal. That wasn’t ground they had traversed yet, and instead of broaching the topic herself, Padmé set her datapad aside for the night.

* * *

The shuttle broke into the upper atmosphere, shaking Padmé out of the thoughts attempting to run away with her—the outbursts rooted in confusion and fear which wouldn’t help her.

“The miscommunication happened between you and the Chancellor,” she said, her voice wavering through her attempts to calm it. “I understood him clearly. There was no specification that I am to stay with you, and you are in no position to demand tribute.” 

“My people have watched this part of the galaxy for some time now, and while your larger ships might pose an inconvenience when amassed in a fleet, they are currently embroiled in your galactic war. We have not come to threaten but to learn, to fill the gaps in our understanding.” 

“Anything you want to know can be part of a cultural exchange,” Padmé said, emphasis on the last word. 

The shuttle soon landed aboard the blade-ship, the one Padmé had seen in the holorecording. From the landing bay to the corridors Padmé followed him down, everything about Thrawn’s ship was a little off. Colors felt more muted, the lights less intense than on ships Padmé was used to. She suspected it had something to do with their red eyes but she was not inclined to ask personal questions if she was correct in assuming this would turn into a quid pro quo situation. 

She and C-3PO ended up in a spacious room with only a couple tables and chairs, the officer’s dining area, presumably. At least they were the only ones here; the similar blue-skinned crew they had already passed had stared at Padmé like they’d never seen a human before.

Thrawn laid a disc on the nearest table, and it projected a holographic figure of her yacht. “Your ship interests me. What is it made from?” 

Padmé’s mouth dropped. “Wait one moment—we’re still discussing you trying to keep me here! I’ll have to leave eventually. You already know the galaxy is in a war, and, as part of the legislative branch, I need to vote on behalf of my people.”

“You are someone with the exact amount of knowledge we require. You can answer all our questions.” 

“Discussion is fine; but you can’t detain me,” Padmé said. 

Thrawn’s brow furrowed. “My people are very emphatic on learning about your galaxy’s capabilities; we specifically demanded a tribute. You came on behalf of those we first made contact with, did you not?”

A twinge shot through Padmé’s chest. Chancellor Palpatine had specifically chosen her for this. How could he have misinterpreted their request so badly? 

“You would do better to send an envoy to the capital of our government, on Coruscant. You could meet our Supreme Chancellor, see our Senate where we make our laws. You would be welcome. There’s no need to hide out here on the edge of the Unknown Regions.” 

“There is, when my people still deliberate if the Chiss will even make friends. The galaxy you come from may not have anything we need or wish for; we would rather not expose ourselves to more people than we need to.”

There was something so smug about Thrawn that bordered on the condescending. He was the outsider in this situation, shouldn’t he have been affected by a little more humility? 

Padmé colored at that thought the moment it crossed her mind—he was an equal, after all, no matter where he came from, and she should treat him as such no matter how his personality came across.

“You have to understand that it’s a little unfair to expect to keep all your secrets while expecting others to divulge their full information. This is a momentous learning experience for both of our governments, we could benefit one another greatly.” 

“I find it disconcerting that you were sent under false pretenses. Your Chancellor should’ve sent someone eager to stay with us. This does not bode well for the truthfulness of your kind, if already they attempt to deceive us.” 

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake!” cried Padmé, face flushing hotter. “Not even my protocol droid can understand your native language—perhaps the translation technology misinterpreted your request.” In the back of her mind, Thrawn’s comment, insinuating that his people were more powerful while hers were away at war, rang like another warning bell. “Deception wasn’t our intention.”

* * *

Padmé found herself checking her datapad more often, even when it went days without alerting her of a new message. She told herself it gave her a moment or two to dwell on something other than the Senate fighting over the deregulation of the Banking Clan.

She got tired of waiting, though, and typed up a message of her own. _Your people have been watching us for so long—would they ever consider stepping into our conflict? Assistance would only make your interest in our affairs less threatening to those in the Republic who might be more inclined to distrust you._

Surprisingly, a response buzzed on her datapad minutes later.

_I can freely admit that my people have had this conversation. Those in favor of assisting have not reached a consensus of which side would be more beneficial to join._

Padmé caught herself mentally arranging five different arguments by level of outrage. Instead, she attempted to be less painfully biased. _And what’s your opinion on that?_

_I have not collected enough information on your galaxy to reach my own informed opinion. Hence why I reached out to you._

* * *

Thrawn’s red eyes watched Padmé as her mind ran through every de-escalation tactic she could think of; she needed the opposite of aggressive negotiations.

She approached him, letting all her earlier indignation bleed out unspoken, and waved C-3PO over to help where she faltered. “I propose a compromise. I’m expected back in the Senate to vote on new legislation—extensive legislation, which will see many revisions. Let me go perform my duty, explain to the Chancellor the situation, and I’ll send ambassadors who will be able to stay for longer.”

“No,” decided Thrawn, far too quickly to be fair, in Padmé’s opinion. “The very reason we don’t approach your capital world directly is to avoid our presence being common knowledge among your Republic. I already conveyed this to your Chancellor. We never intended to retain you indefinitely; merely as long as necessary.”

“And how long is necessary?”

“That will become clear as we learn more about your people.”

Aggressive negotiations were looking like a better option, and Padmé had to take a walk around the room just to vent the frustration of a conversation running in circles.

Of being in this predicament in the first place.

Of the Chancellor choosing her at all.

“I do not wish to keep you here against your will,” Thrawn spoke up when she was halfway across the room. “I fear this makes my people look hostile in your eyes, and that was never our intention.”

Just from the little she had seen of their ships and capabilities, the Chiss would be badly needed allies if they could be convinced to help. She couldn’t afford to make a bad first impression, either.

“If the timing had just been a little different…” she sighed, returning. “I don’t take this responsibility the Chancellor gave me lightly. But also the war that’s embroiled the galaxy may very well hinge on this upcoming vote. I give you my word that if you let me go back to the Senate, I will return when it’s done, and stay for equal the amount of time I was gone.”

Thrawn’s answer wasn’t immediate this time. “We have only just met. How can I trust you?”

“I’ll leave you my droid,” Padmé said, motioning to C-3PO.

“You—what?!” cried C-3PO with a start. Thrawn arched a brow, studying her.

“Understand that if I grant your request, I am skirting disobedience with my superiors,” he said in the same tone as if conveying a secret. “Trusting a stranger so completely would be reckless.”

“I’ll leave you with my personal datapad frequency as well,” Padmé said. “You can check in with me at any time. But we both have promises to our people to keep.”

Thrawn inclined his head. “I would prefer you return alone, when you _do_ return.”

* * *

_Why did the Chancellor choose you, of all the ambassadors and stewards of the Republic, to meet our envoy?_

It was a question Padmé had asked herself repeatedly. It was one Palpatine had answered when she returned to his office to report on her encounter with the Chiss, though his response the second time around seemingly boiled down to convenience rather than conviction. But that was an element she didn’t think appropriate to share. _If you ever came and saw our Senate, you’d understand._

_An interesting speculation to entertain, certainly. Though I do not believe we are well enough acquainted for me to be allowed that much latitude, just yet._

Padmé couldn’t help the smile that broke on her face. Her fingers absently traced the edge of the datapad. The legislation was in its final vote, taking as long as Padmé had predicted it would, yet during all that time, Thrawn hadn’t asked once whether or not she was really coming back. He never questioned her promise. And she was actually looking forward to going back to act as ambassador for the Republic. To talk in person once more with the commander she’d gotten a little more familiar with over the passing months.

 _I’m glad I was chosen, though,_ she typed. _I have a feeling this arrangement is going to be mutually bene—_ Without even finishing that line of thought, she deleted her entire message. Instead she sent: _Tell 3PO he won’t have to stay there much longer._

* * *

Padmé’s chromium-plated yacht docked against Thrawn’s warship in the shadow of the planet Indoumodo. It was an out-of-the-way location in Wild Space where there was no chance of anyone—not even a long-range outpost on the edge of the Unknown Regions—noticing a Republic senator meeting a foreign presence.

Two Chiss crewmembers waited at the airlock. One, with his sidearm, was clearly security. The other, with a plate of lines on the front of her uniform, was of a more impressive rank lost on Padmé.

“The Commander is waiting for you,” the officer said in Meese Caulf, a language Padmé had been more motivated to study over the past half year.

“After you,” said Padmé. Her accent had even improved. The officer led her to the dining hall Padmé had seen before. Thrawn sat at one table, already set for two people, and C-3PO stood next to him. His golden arms flew up at her entrance.

“Oh, Senator Amidala! Bless my circuits! I thought I would never see you again, although I can’t say I’ve spent an altogether disagreeable time here—”

“It’s good to see you return,” Thrawn said, standing.

“I told you I would.” She looked over the dishes of food dotting the table, none of them familiar. “Am I interrupting?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re just in time.” He rounded the table to pull her chair out for her. “I assume the journey was long, and if you’re to stay here for six months, we should start out on the right foot this time.”

“Sounds like you were counting.”

Padmé took a seat, and as Thrawn pushed in her chair, he murmured, “I was.” 

She looked up into his red eyes, no longer an unnerving feature to her. In fact, she now found them quite beautiful.

“Well, it’s good to hear I wasn’t the only one.”


End file.
